Chosen by the cursed Alpha king
“Good. Because we have work to do.”
Behind her, two omegas carry boxes and trays, their eyes wide with excitement. They set everything down carefully, like sacred offerings.
Fabric. Gold. Jewelry that glows like captured sunlight.
I sit frozen on the edge of the bed.
“This is… a lot,” I whisper.
Aria laughs. “You’re about to stand beside the Alpha of Red Moon. ‘A lot’ is the minimum.”
She helps me into the dress.
It’s golden,not the harsh kind, but warm and soft, flowing like liquid light. It hugs my curves instead of hiding them, cinching gently beneath my chest, falling in elegant folds to the floor.